Frost and Snow
by themortalbookthief
Summary: What if Elsa was never alone on the mountain? What if their happened to be a boy there who maybe understood her? What if that boy was Jack Frost?


The icy wind whipped at her hair, but still she didn't turn back. Curiosity would not get the better of her this time, she had let that control her for too long. Her feet sunk into the ever deepening snow, creeping up to her ankles, but she didn't feel anything. No cold, no pain, nothing. Gloves covered her hands but there was no warmth there, there never had been. The wind continued to swirl above her head, lashing at her, tempting her to turn around and look the home she had left behind, but she wouldn't turn around. This time there was no going back. She would never face those terrified faces, the hurt smacked across her sister's face. This time she would move on, and so would everyone else.

She continued to walk at an incline, the mountain getting forever steeper, the air thinner, the wind colder but her eyes stayed focused on the summit, oblivious to everything else around her. Oblivious to the boy watching curiously from the shadows. His hair white, skin as pale as ice and his clothes covered in webbed layers of frost. He peered out from a crack in the black rock, an opening hidden from the snow storm circling the mountain. Blue eyes trained on the girl's figure, her strong stature effortlessly moving against the strength of the storm, her hair tugged out from its intricate braid and falling over her shoulder in a single, loose plait. Her fingers slip out of her gloves, ghostly pale skin reflecting off the white snow, but she doesn't shiver.

The boy cocks his head his eyes still following the girl, who has now stopped. She pulls off her other gloves and throws them over her shoulder. Peering further out of the cavern, he witness' her unclip her cloak and turn her back on it as it floats behind, pulled by the wind. She keeps moving, heading further into the mountains, he follows her with his eyes, watching her movement, the mixed emotions churning on her dainty face. Leaning further round the corner he slips, falling face first into the snow, his body drenched and surrounded by a foot high wall of snow, but like the girl he feels no cold. She startles at the sound, twisting her body so she is staring wide eyed at the source. He pulls himself up, sitting back on his heels, shaking the camouflaged snow out of his hair. His lips pull up at the corners, hinting at an embarrassed smile, while his eyes bear straight back into hers. Her mouth is pulled into an 'o' of surprise and her arms hang limp at her sides, what looks like snowflakes bursting from her fingertips.

'Who are you?' the boy asks, gazing at the snowfall that is now falling from her fingertips.

'I, err, I…Who are you?' Her face has taken on a guarded look eyes trying to hide the fear and uncertainty she feels towards this young man lying in the snow, a giant wooden cane sticking out of a snow heap at an odd angle.

'Jack Frost, but what are you doing with your hands, is that snow? Who are you, what are you?' Rising from his crouch in the snow, Jack brushes the snow off his clothes and reaches for the staff, the girl flinches at this movement and he leaves it in place raising his hands in a surrendering motion. 'It's okay, I won't hurt you'. His eyes glow with innocence, they shine with memories and fun.

'My name is Elsa, I am, I was err…' She bites her lip and looks down, her fingers are still trailing snowflakes and she folds her hands together and wraps them into the folds of her dress, a crimson rushing into her cheeks.

'Okay, hi'.

'Hi', with her head still angled at the ground she flicks her eyes up meeting his inquisitive gaze.

'Quit looking at me like that.'

'Sorry, I just, how do you do that? With your hands, I've never seen that before'.

'Says the guy with hair practically made of ice'. 'Well, I didn't say I was completely useless.' He reaches for the staff and she watches from the corner of her eye, monitoring his movements, ready for anything. As he picks it up ice spreads from his grip over the wood, and when he points it, the snowy ground turns to sheet ice. The ice spreads around, circling them until they are both standing on what resembles a frozen lake. She slips slightly but steadies herself, and stamps her foot on the ice in front of her, as if testing him. A giant snowflake appears under her foot, carved into the ice, different colours shimmering under the sunlight.

'Wow that is what I call ice!' She giggles, and he sends a spark of icicles flying at the rock to the left, a face appears made out of the needles of ice wedged halfway into the rock.

'Okay, nice trick'. She grins, her eyes shine with a childlike humour and before he can reply a blast of snow leaves her fingertips, dressing him in a coat of slush, he shakes his hair out and they both start giggling.

'Nice to meet you Snow Queen'.

'You too, Ice Man'.


End file.
